


Massage Therapy

by severinne



Category: Life on Mars (UK)
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Massage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-08-07
Updated: 2008-08-07
Packaged: 2017-10-15 04:42:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/157141
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/severinne/pseuds/severinne
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gene's had a hard day, so Sam treats him to a head massage. Simple, really.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Massage Therapy

**Author's Note:**

  * For [candesgirl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/candesgirl/gifts).



‘For Christ’s sake, Guv, no.’

‘Girly hands off that _now_ , Tyler, ‘fore I rip ‘em off and shove ‘em up yer arse.’

‘And I said, _no_.’ Sam picked up Gene’s bottle of second-best single malt as well as his glass, moving both inconveniently out of reach to the top of the filing cabinet. ‘Look, I know you’ve had a rough one today–‘

‘Rough’s the least of what you’ll be getting if you don’t hand me that back, pronto.’ Gene craned his head back to glare at both Sam and his scotch; he could just stand up and retrieve it himself, except that Sam would never learn to fetch up anything otherwise. That, and the bone-deep ache in his body made sitting far more attractive than either Sam or a fine single malt.

Which was heresy, of course. It really was one of those days.

Sam smirked obnoxiously at him. ‘Can’t say I’m feeling all that threatened, Guv. Can’t even get up to fetch the booze yourself, can you?’

Damn.

‘But if you would just shut up and let me continue,’ he went on, the smirk fading into a gentler smile, ‘I think you’ll find there’re other ways to relieve all that tension besides getting completely bladdered.’

Gene twisted his neck around the other way, trying to keep an eye on Sam as he slipped to the back of his chair, wincing as a muscle at his nape screamed in protest. ‘Bugger,’ he growled, ducking his head and rubbing at the offending ache.

‘Shhh, easy there…’ Sam’s hand pushed his away, and suddenly there were fingers threading through his hair, petting away like he was some bloody cat.

‘What the flaming ‘ell are you doing, you poncy fairy-boy?’

‘You’ll see.’ Both hands were combing through his hair now, fingertips dragging over his scalp. ‘Someone I knew back in Hyde used to do this for me all the time…’

‘Knew that place was bloody queer.’

‘Piss off.’ Sam’s fingers tightened around strands of his hair and tugged, but slowly, gently. ‘Soon enough, you’ll be praising my girly hands from the bloody rooftops.’

Gene grunted disdainfully, though he found it came out something like a sigh once Sam loosened his grip on his hair, a strange sense of warm relief spreading over his scalp. Involuntarily, Gene’s eyes slid shut as Sam’s fingers set to work rubbing slow, methodical circles backward from his hairline, ten firm digits weaving through strands of hair, sliding out, and repeating the motion in a silent, soothing gesture.

By the third pass, Gene could hear something other than the whisper of his hair through Sam’s fingers, a deep and desirous sound like a lion purring; distantly, past the pleasure easing through his limbs and pooling in his groin, Gene realized the sound was coming from his own throat.

‘That's it... good, just let go...’ Sam’s breath whispered hot against his ear. ‘Damn, Gene, just listen to you, moaning under my fingers like a licentious whore…’

‘You what?’ Gene frowned, utterly perplexed. Sam sighed.

‘You sound like a two-bit prossie.’

‘Oh…. _ohhh_ …’

‘Yeah, like that.’ Sam’s fingers worked harder over his scalp, almost scratching with his dull fingernails as he worked towards the nape of Gene’s neck, massaging into the skin beneath the ends of his hair. ‘Mmm, you’re just gorgeous like this…’

‘Uhhnn…’

A soft laugh tickled his skin. ‘Better?’

‘Ahh…’

‘Good.’ Fingers stroked his hair one last time, then disappeared. Gene sagged in his chair, boneless with bliss save for one rather insistent exception. ‘Reckon it’s time to call it a day.’

‘Wha-?’ Gene’s eyes snapped open, gaping openly at Sam as he shrugged into his leather coat. ‘Hold up, where the ‘ell d’you think you’re going?’

Sam chuckled. ‘ _We_ are going home, Guv,’ he said lightly, walking back around the desk with that strut of his that always made Gene’s mouth go dry. ‘See, we’ve got the head massage taken care of,’ he remarked, brushing Gene’s hair back from his face with a casual gesture, ‘but there’s all sorts from the neck down that’s gonna need seeing to as well.’

‘Oh.’ Gene swallowed with a dry click. ‘An’ you don’t think you could skip ahead a bit, y’know…’ He gestured significantly at his tented trousers.

‘All in good time. Best to follow procedure on this one.’ Sam smirked, lowered his voice. ‘Plus, all the proper equipment is back at mine.’

‘Oh?’

‘Scented oils, other aids…’

‘Oh.’

‘Can I fetch your coat, Guv?’

Gene swallowed again, hard, and nodded. ‘Best you do, Sammy-boy.’


End file.
